


Adventures in 221c

by robinasnyder



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Science Bros, ridiculous fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark and Bruce Banner move in to 221c Baker Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Because moving me to a large city and a small apartment is a brilliant idea," Bruce said, smiling despite himself as his fingers drummed on the side of one of Tony Stark's many, many, _many_ sports cars. He can't help it, he's a sucker for a convertible.

"You did fine in the flying metal death trap," Tony said.

"You missed the part where I changed and nearly killed everyone."

"You were under duress, and you didn't kill everyone, so mark that as a point for you."

Bruce didn't know whether to punch Tony or laugh. He settled for chuckling. "So, where are we staying at?"

"221c Baker Street, rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?"

"221c… why again?"

"Eh… I've been kindly asked to take you out of the states until the burning pile of New York cools a bit."

"You know I didn't do that alone, right? You helped too."

"Which is why I'm here too," Tony said.

"Am I here to be sure you don't flirt with every girl in London?"

"You've been talking to Pepper already, that's good." Bruce couldn't help it, he grinned. Tony was impossible to remain serious with. It was nice. "Don't worry, she knows I plan to take you out, find you a nice British chippy."

"Never, ever say that again. I never want to hear those words coming out of your mouth. It sounds wrong."

"British or Chippy?" Tony was smirking. Beautiful!

"Just shut up."

"Chippy, chippy, chippy chippy chippy."

"You really never shut up, do you?"

"Chippy chippy chippy, one of my fine gifts, chippy chippy chippy. Ow! You punched me."

"You deserved it, and it didn't hurt," Bruce said. He knew damn well it didn't hurt.

"Ow, I think you've broken my arm," Tony said, rubbing his hurt arm and steering with his elbows.

"You're worse than movie jock," Bruce said, looking back out at the passing city.

"We aims to please," Tony said, parking in front of a sandwich shop. "Here we are, our temporary month long home sweet home."

"You're car's going to get stolen," Bruce said, watching Tony just jump over the door to get out instead of actually opening it. Bruce opened the door and shut it. Tony was the show off. He wasn't.

"Don't worry, anyone who tries will be properly electrocuted and handcuffed to the car until I come to get them out. What? You're looking at me funny, stop it."

"Remind me to never try and steal anything from you."

"All you need to do is ask. You can take the car for a spin anytime."

"I don't have a driver's license."

"I don't care. I can replace it."

"I have road rage."

"Well, there's that," Tony said, grabbing his Iron Man to-go suit/briefcase out of the back seat before he popped the trunk. Bruce had one duffle bag. Tony had his suit/briefcase, an actual briefcase, a large rolling suit case, and a very full duffle bag.

"Are these all clothes? We're only going to be here for a month!"

"Well, there are some other provisions, things for a few experiments, stuff like that."

"Really?"

"Well, I sent most of it over beforehand."

"Figures," Bruce muttered, turning to the front door only to see a kindly looking older woman coming over to them.

"Hello, you must be Tony and Bruce, right?" she asked. "Oh, do come in. Tony, your girlfriend called and asked for you to call her when you arrived."

"She can't live without me," Tony said, dropping his very full duffle bag in Bruce's arms and getting the other things.

"Lucky for you," Bruce said, earning him a raised eyebrow from Tony. It was nice to get him once in a while.

"All these boxes arrived yesterday, lots of equipment. I'm afraid Sherlock may have borrowed some pieces. You can take them back when he's not around to fuss. He may come fuss later, though," she said, leading them back. 221c was the basement apartment. It wasn't very big or really very small. It also no longer really fit with the decor of the rest of the house. Obviously Tony had sent someone to redecorate. Everything was already set up too.

"Sherlock?" Bruce asked, glancing at Tony who'd already moved to claim his own room and dump his things in there.

"Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective. He lives right upstairs. I don't suppose you've read John's blog? Very lovely, very popular."

"Yes, I've read it," Bruce said.

"John and Sherlock live right upstairs. It was so nice for you to pay to have the place better insulate!" She called back so Tony could hear before smiling at Bruce. "Sherlock does tend to play violin at odd hours of the night, or shoot holes in the walls when he's bored, and he and John are in and out at odd hours because of cases. I hardly notice anymore, but with the new insulation you shouldn't notice at all."

"No," Bruce said. "Thank you, this is lovely, Ma'am."

"Mrs. Hudson is fine, dear."

"Mrs. Hudson, then," Bruce said with a smile.

"Now, now, love, don't go flirting with the pretty ladies," Tony said, coming back in to get his duffle bag. Bruce scowled and Mrs. Hudson giggled.

"Don't worry, I don't judge, the neighbor next door has married ones," Mrs. Hudson said. "I'll leave you both alone to get unpacked," she said.

"I can see the headlines tomorrow: "Billionaire Tony Stark shacking up with giant green monster,"" Bruce said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"No, it'll say: "Billionaire Tony Stark outed as gay after having used every woman he's ever met as his beards.""

"And that really doesn't bother you?" Bruce asked. He personally didn't care. It's not like he was likely to ever have a relationship ever again. He could just see it now: get into a fight with the wife about who has to buy dish soap and end up destroying the house.

"I've always wanted to try being a stealth heterosexual."

"You have a girlfriend."

"Look, the only people who won't care are the only people I care about. It's not like Pepper's going to dump me for a dumbass rumor like that when she's stuck by me for everything else."

"Yeah, you know that's not the real problem, though," Bruce said, following Tony back to where the room was. He pitched his duffle bag on his bed before going to Tony's room. Everything was already hanging up. Apparently Tony had shipped some of his servant/robots along the way, and the arm-thing was putting the clothes away.

"What's the real problem?"

"You moved us under a high functioning sociopath," Bruce said.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Tony said, way too innocent.

"Oh come on, don't pretend. You shoved _The Science of Deduction_ under my nose and started to fangirl like someone waiting to see a teeny bopper."

"Okay, you don't get to hang out with me anymore. Clearly, I am a bad influence," Tony said. He walked around his bed, wheeling his servant robot (which had just finished putted away all his clothes) and down to Bruce's room, where the robot proceeded to do the same work with Bruce's few actual belongings.

"Tony… you put me in a house with a man who's supposed to be terribly infuriating and who already stole some of your equipment, and who can supposedly figure out everything about a man just by looking at him!"

"Yes, but that's what makes it exciting!" Tony said.

"Damn it, Tony, why did I agree to this?" Bruce demanded, plopping down on the bed and held his head in his hands, willing himself not to get too angry. Tony patted him on top of the head. Problem solved. Tony annoyed him, but the annoyance was more fun than anything else.

"Because you would be bored in New York and you know it. Look, I got a place for us on weekends were you can run around and be the Hulk for a while so the other guy doesn't get too bored and no one has to see, and during the week you can go be… well, you."

"How do you know this will work?"

"I asked him… very agreeable man, The Hulk." Bruce has no way of knowing if Tony was telling the truth or not and really didn't want to know.

"You did pick this place because you knew Sherlock Holmes would be here, though."

"Yeah, but come on, how interesting will that be?" Tony looked like a kid in a candy shop.

"Potentially dangerous."

"It's not fun otherwise."

"You're insane."

"Says the man who turns into a giant green smashing monster."

"Point," Bruce said, glancing over at the robot who was done and looking for something to do. Tony started to wheel it out again and Bruce was forced once against to follow after him.

* * *

"I don't like it," Sherlock said.

"You don't like anything," John said, flipping through the bills they'd gotten.

"I don't like this specifically."

"Mrs. Hudson gives us a ridiculous deal on the rent and you don't like that she let someone move in for a month after he's willing to pay full rent and fix up 221c? Sherlock, I'm starting to think that you channel your inner child when you're bored and sulky. It's like living with a teenager."

"Shut up," Sherlock said, not willing to dignify John's words with any other response.

"Look how wonderfully you disprove my point," John said.

"Boys!" Mrs. Hudson called, coming up the stairs. "Come meet the new neighbors," she said, positively beaming as she led her two new tenants up into 221b. "Sherlock, John, this is Tony and Bruce," she said, pointing to each when she said their respective names.

"A pleasure to meet you," John said, standing up and setting his bills aside.

"Same," Bruce said, shaking hands in the most vague way possible and his eyes looked around the room. Tony's handshake was very firm.

"Ah, I just made fresh biscuits," Mrs. Hudson said, suddenly remembering as she hurried away.

"You look a bit familiar," John said.

"Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, and my associate, Dr. Bruce Banner," he said.

"Oh, wow," John said, looking a bit star struck suddenly.

"Dr. Banner," Sherlock said, suddenly very interested. Bruce identified this as a very not good thing. "Your work with Gamma radiation has proved quiet extraordinary."

"No, Sherlock," John said suddenly.

"What?"

"You're not allowed to experiment on other tenants," John said. Tony could not keep from laughing. Bruce found himself scratching his head, trying to not be obvious about his smirk. Pepper had said something very similar once.

"You think that's funny?" Sherlock asked, keying in on Tony Stark.

"Yes, I think it's very funny," Tony said, smirking. "Although, I must admit I'm much more curious about you, Mr. Holmes. Are you really as good as they say?"

"Sherlock, don't," John warned, but he seemed to know a losing battle when he saw one.

"Just ignore them," Bruce suggested. "Do you have any tea?"

"Oh, yeah, kitchen," John said, leading the other man to the electric kettle. "Is he always like that?"

"You never really had to work for anything," Sherlock started.

"Is he always like that?" Bruce asked.

"Grades, women, work was always handed to you with little to know wait or work, which was why your near death experience came as such a shock to your system. You simply became aware of a truth that most people had been aware of since the Vietnam War, though not your father, clearly, having been a man who made weapons for the Second World War when there was some kind of clear right and wrong. Being handed everything has made you obsessively controlling as you've been told you were the only one who could so the work you do, though evidence had shown that this so far is true. You continue to be in control of everything you do as to not repeat some of your more obvious and public mistakes, but you act as if you aren't. Moving to another country even for a temporary basis, obviously you would continue to do you work, though out of the public eye. You came here not for a lab or for the work, though, but because you were looking for something else," Sherlock said, pausing to cast another glance over Tony Stark. "Me."

"Yes," John sighed heavily.

"Not bad," Tony said. "Are you done."

"No, but most everything's in the papers anyway. No point rehashing everything everyone knows already, the alcoholism, the self hate, the god complex," Sherlock said, losing interesting already.

"Speaking of alcohol," Tony said, interested but seeing no point in poking Sherlock with a spoon. "You gents should come out drinking with my buddy and me."

"When," Bruce said. "Did you decide to do this?"

"About a minute a ago when Mr. Holmes was talking," Tony said.

"You have a girlfriend."

"Don't worry, I'll just try out a few girls to see who's right for you."

"Yeah, that excuse isn't going to fly when you get home, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your girlfriend's lecture."

"Don't worry. If you're getting lectured then I'll be there too and you'll get to leave after the first half."

"Still, no thank you. I'd rather stay home."

"Where Pepper will really get angry because you left me alone in a club with a lot of women?"

"Damn you," Bruce said, accepting the tea John had handed him. "Thank you."

"So, gents, you in?" Tony asked. "I promise you each at least half a dozen numbers of devastatingly sexy women."

"Just agree, he'll bug you until you do," Bruce said. Tony Stark didn't really understand the word 'no'.


	2. Chapter 2

"California Loooove," Tony sang, the music turned up to a ridiculous level.

"You're just trying to piss Sherlock off," Bruce said, looking at Tony's kindle, not sure if he was more surprised by the selection of doctoral dissertations on physics (because how many of those were going to be on the amazon market place?) or by the number of blissfully bad smutty romance novels. Bruce liked to believe they were Pepper's, but he was pretty sure they won't.

"Nah, practicing," Tony said, clapping his hands as he proceeded to do some kind of bug hop that crescendoed in a slide. He moved into some kind of bizarre leg shaking that reminded Bruce of someone trying to do The Twist. "California, California, knows how to party. California knows how to party," Tony said. He continued his leg shaking but his whole body got into it. It was simultaneous cool, graceful, and painfully white.

"Shake it, shake it baby. Shake it, Shake it," whoever it was sang. Tony shifted from a combination of leg twitches and up and down arm motions into backward walking, his but twitching as his hands spread in front of him doing the twinkle fingers.

"Oh, please tell me you dance for Pepper like this," Bruce said, wishing he was filming it. He wanted to send it to Nick Fury and everyone Tony had ever met.

"Pepper likes my sweet moves," Tony said.

"I know you dance better than this," Bruce said. Tony would never, ever dance this badly (hilariously bad but still graceful. Tony was clearly enjoying himself though. He'd thrown his whole body into it) where people could see.

"I'm getting my bad dancing out now," Tony said. He grabbed his belt loops and started into something that was clearly from a line dance, but involved an obscene amount of butt shaking.

"A move from a southern strip club?"

"No, one from Washington, but it was catered to Texas lawmakers," Tony said sighing as the song ended.

"I feel like I didn't need to know that."

"You probably didn't, but then you asked," Tony said, switching the song to something else.

"Hey, I know this one," Bruce said.

"Please, don't start pulling a Capt.," Tony groaned.

"Shut up," Bruce said, chucking a sofa pillow at Tony's head. He caught it and handed it to the servant/robot who put the pillow back in its place and fluffed it.

"What sets you free and brought you to me, babe? What sets you free? I need you here by me?" Tony started to sing along with this one. "In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more. With a rebel yell, more, more, more."

"At least your dancing is getting better," Bruce said. "Is _The Prince's Son_ really as bad as I think it is?"

"How bad do you think it is?"

"The cover shows a man in full prince regalia holding a baby and looking confused," Bruce said.

"Then it's pretty bad," Tony said, flopping down on the sofa and taking the kindle from Bruce's hands. "Why are you reading this?"

"Not much to do before we leave," Bruce pointed out.

"That is not true!" Tony said, hoping up. "Garcon!" He called to the robot/servant. "Get Master Bruce's best suit," he instructed.

"Best suit? What best suit," Bruce asked. He only wore things he didn't care about ripping through.

"The one I bought you."

"Tony!" Bruce snapped, feeling a sick twist in his stomach when the robot returned with possibly the nicest suit Bruce would ever wear in his life. It wasn't made for wearing to a concert, it was an expensive suit of expensive materials made for going to a club. "This is way out of line."

"How?"

"I'm about a gift tie away from being a kept man," Bruce grumbled.

"So? You've been living in the dirt for the past few years. It's fine to live in luxury for a while. Besides, I'd be bored without you. Consider all this a payment for not being stuck in the house by myself all day."

"I bet your dad rented kids to play with you when you were small," Bruce grumbled, standing up. "Thank you, Garcon," he said to the robot, who shook its arm with happiness. He glanced over at Tony who had a flicker of something in his eyes before he stood up and started pushing Bruce into his room. "Go change. We'll work on your hair later."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"It looks like you haven't brushed it since the last time you turned green."

* * *

"I don't like this," Sherlock said.

"You don't have to," John said.

"I'm not going."

"You stole the man's equipment before he even got here and he's letting you borrow it," John said, knocking on the door to 221c. "You're going."

"Ah, I was just wondering where you gents were," Tony shouted from the back room as the door opened. "Out in a sec, make yourselves at home!"

John rocked back on his heels while Sherlock went right in, examining the renovations to 221c. It didn't even look like it was part of the building anymore. Everything was sleek and modern and expensive looking. It was like they'd stepped into some alternate dimension. John glanced back out in the hall to be sure that it at least still looked the same.

"Far cry different from the last time we were in here," John said, glancing at Sherlock who was examining the room, but who'd gone mute.

"Ah, good, let's get out of here," Tony said, coming out of one of the rooms. He was dressed up much nicer than both John or Sherlock, even with Sherlock's normal posh dress. Bruce followed him out, his hair styled and also dressed up and looking as uncomfortable as the times John realized that Sherlock had just been experimenting on him. "Don't be jealous boys. You save my life I'll dress you up this nice to-ow!" he cut himself off, rubbing his side where Bruce and viciously jabbed his elbow into him.

"Let's go," Bruce muttered darkly, walking past Sherlock and John and outside.

"We had a little domestic before you boys got here. Turns out Bruce has a very sensitive scalp and doesn't like having his hair brushed," Tony said. John had no idea if Tony was serious or joking or to what degree of either. He just walked out of the flat with Sherlock and out to the car.

Bruce was standing by the shiny red convertible that John had found himself admiring every time he glanced out the window or walked outside that day. "Well?" Bruce asked.

"Well what?" Tony asked.

"Turn off the security," Bruce said irritably.

"Keep your pants on," Tony said, pulling out his keys and clicking a button. He walked around the driver's seat, getting in; leaving Bruce to pull up the seat so Sherlock and John could get in the back.

"Where are we going?" John asked, sitting behind Tony because it seemed like a better idea than letting Sherlock sit there.

"Just a little place I know," Tony said with a smile, starting the car and driving off down the road at a dangerous speed.

* * *

The little place Tony knew happened to be one of the most exclusive clubs in London. John only even knew about it because there had been a murder there and he'd follow Sherlock in to examine the scene. He hadn't even been allowed to write that one up because of a mass of documents they'd had to sign before they could even see the body.

Tony had a regular table.

"Scotch for everyone to start," Tony ordered, throwing himself down in his chair which seemed more like a throne than anything else.

"Tony, do you own this place?" Bruce asked, finally talking after being mute the entire drive.

"How did you know?" Tony asked from his throne.

"Just a hunch," Bruce said. "Thank you," he said when the man returned almost instantly with the drinks. He downed it almost instantly. He didn't drink much because he didn't have as much control when he was drunk. He could deal with one scotch and be fine.

"I thought you were in tech," John said.

"Yeah, but there was never a good place to party in London," Sherlock said with a shrug. It certainly looked like the kind of place he would like. "In any case, to night you will all get at least three phone numbers before you leave here."

"How?" John asked. He and Sherlock did not even look properly dressed for this.

"You're sitting at the king's table," Tony said, leaning back in his chair. "Just run the girls by me before you get interested. They might not be any good."

"Like you were ever good at those judgments," Bruce said, watching Tony finish his drink and fill his glass again when the server returned with the bottle. This was the second thing Pepper had talked to him about: Tony's drinking. Tony could have anything he wanted in the world, being wealthy, influential and very smart. Pepper couldn't stop him from drinking, but she tried to contain it when possible. He had an exact formula of when to cut him off.

"True, but it's either me or run them by Sherlock," Tony said in a far too innocent tone. The other three men scowled. "Oh look, they're playing my song." The song Tony had been dancing to earlier suddenly coming on.

"Christ," Bruce muttered, rubbing his forehead, trying to get the mental images from the previous dance out of his head.

"Come on, up you go, time to dance," Tony said, grabbing Bruce's arm and dragging him out on the dance floor. Almost instantly a pretty brunette slipped herself into Tony's arms and another wound herself around Bruce.

Bruce had one moment to glance at Tony and realize that he could dance to that song before he found himself fairly well engrossed in his partner. "I read your paper," the girl whispered in his ear when she pressed her body against him.

"Which one?" Bruce asked. He wasn't exactly an unknown anymore, not after the bit with New York.

"All of them," the girl said. "I'm studying Neurochemistry," she added, not really telling where or how far along, though Bruce could guess, given the club itself.

"I'm Bruce," he said.

"Isabel," the young woman said, twisting her finger in her of her curls. "The king hasn't come back to his castle for a while."

Bruce shrugged, not sure where this line of inquiry was going, though the girl was glancing over at Sherlock and John. "You know how he is," he said.

"Vaguely, yes," she said. "Is that John Watson?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid," Bruce said, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. "Come on, why don't you meet him?" He said, leading her over. "Dr. Watson, it appears you have a fan."

"Oh," John said, looking a bit flustered like any man who was used to only being known online would be. "Hello, lovely to meet you."

"Isabel," the young woman said, flashing a self-assured smile and slipping to sit down next to John.

"And uh, this is Sherlock," John introduced.

"Please," Isabel said, offering to shake Sherlock's hand, which he ignored. She didn't seem upset to be brushed off, simply focusing back on John. "I enjoy your work very much, Dr. Watson."

"Just John is fine."

Bruce turned to leave after that. He glanced over to see Tony already dancing with another girl. It was better that way, no commitments. "Not every man is willing to give up a prospect," Sherlock said from Bruce's side. Clearly he'd gotten up to escape the flirting between John and Isabel.

"No use pursuing the impossible," Bruce said with a shrug, glancing around the room.

"John's not going to get three phone numbers," Sherlock said.

"I don't think he'll accept them when they're offered," Bruce said.

"A doctoral candidate, nearing the term of having to defend her thesis but done with all it already," Sherlock said, glancing around the room. "No, he won't accept any other numbers."

"How about a game," Bruce suggested.

"See who can get the most phone numbers?" Sherlock asked, pretty sure that was the game.

"By being completely ourselves," Bruce said.

"You mean me being myself. If you're yourself then this place won't be left standing."

"Eh, you are pretty smart," Bruce said, smacking Sherlock harder on the back than was absolutely necessary.


	3. Chapter 3

It was decided that, to make it in some way fair, Bruce would introduce himself as the Hulk.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Doctor Bruce Banner. You might know me as the giant green monster that destroys things when he's angry.

* * *

"Sherlock Holmes. You've obviously come here to find a sex partner, mostly because you think your boyfriend's cheating on you, which he isn't, but your father cheated on your mother and so you're predisposition to think any important male in your life is cheating to save from being blindsided by the revelation all over again. This is a terrible method to find a mate as you will most likely end up with a man who does have extramarital affairs because you will not allow yourself to trust any other type of man."

* * *

"Hello, I'm Doctor Bruce Banner. You might know me as the Hulk."

"You mean the thing that smashed Harlem?"

"Uh, well, yeah."

* * *

"Sherlock Holmes. You're hoping to seduce Tony Stark this evening, or one of his friends in hopes of getting to Tony Stark. You want to get famous either for ruining his current relationship or by selling some kind of story to a newspaper, hoping that you can also bring a lawsuit as you here those get settled with quiet a lot of money."

* * *

"Hello, I'm Doctor Bruce Banner."

"And why are you at the King's table?"

"I'm Tony's friend who turns into a giant green rage monster."

* * *

"Sherlock Holmes. You're not actually looking for a man, though you want your friend who brought you to think you are. You're hoping that she won't notice that you're a lesbian if you flirt with a bunch of men and get shot down. You're also hoping that she'll get rejected and drunk enough that you can soothe her and hope that she'll eventually see you as her best option."

"So you won't mind faking flirting with me for a few minutes, then?"

* * *

"Hi, I'm Doctor Bruce Banner."

"You know, I don't think introducing yourself as the Hulk is the best way to get phone numbers."

"You see that man over there?"

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"You read the blog?"

"My ex loved it."

"I have a bet with him to see how many phone numbers we can get by being ourselves. Introducing myself this is the only way it's fair."

"It's sad when the only way to balance out a bad personality is by telling people you might accidentally on purpose turn them into grape jelly."

"I never said it wasn't."

"Here, you can have mine. I wouldn't mind making my ex's favorite obsession lose at something."

* * *

"Sherlock Holmes. You're here hoping to find a love connection, which is foolish as this is a place that girls go to be seen and guys go to hit on girls. Good for a one night stand, bad for an extended relationship."

"I know, but I figure a date with someone can't hurt my no-dating streak."

"What's this?"

"My phone number. When's the last time you've been on a date?"

* * *

"See, what did I tell you?" Tony asked on the car ride home. Sherlock was driving. "Three phone numbers each."

"John only got one," Sherlock said.

"Yeah, well, he found a keeper quick off, so no harm there. I must admit, you are a lucky man, Dr. Watson. When's the date?"

"Tomorrow, if Sherlock doesn't come up with a reason to sabotage it between now and then."

"He probably will," Tony said. "But I'm certain I can distract him with some nice shiny science equipment."

"You are both aware that I can hear you," Sherlock said.

"Yeah, well, you're driving my car."

"You're hammered, Tony," Bruce said from the front seat.

"And you're the fool who only got three phone numbers because you told every girl there that you could smash them."

"Don't forget Sherlock, who somehow managed to get three despite deducing every woman in the bar," John said.

"Yeah, exactly how many of the numbers were from pity?"

"All three for us both I expect," Bruce admitted, looking down at the cocktail napkins he got. "Though, I was talking to one of the girls Sherlock got, she's nice. You should take her out."

"No," Sherlock said with a long suffering tone.

"Why not?" Tony asked. "If Bruce likes her she can't be all bad."

"My body is merely transport."

"Oh man, you are so missing out," Tony said, leaning on the back of Sherlock's seat. "When's the last time you've had a date?"

"I never saw how dating would be a relevant subject of study."

"So you have never been out on a date?" Tony asked. He actually sounded offended.

"If I did I must have deleted it."

"Okay, that's it, you are calling that girl when you get home and setting up a date with her tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?"

"Two birds with one stone. Look, I got a nice restaurant I can set you boy up at, two, actually, on opposite sides of town. You're going to love it."

"I'm not exactly sure that accepting more charity from you will work out well," John said, tugging Tony back down in his seat.

"This went well, didn't it?"

"Not for me," Bruce said.

"Well, you're an idiot, and you didn't change and kill anyone, so count it a success."

"Just think of it as too much of a good thing," John said.

"No such thing," Tony said sulkily.

Sherlock pulled out in front of 221 Baker Street, and everyone climbed out. Tony, for his shocking level of inebriation, still managed to climb out like nothing was wrong.

"Alright Children, upstairs and make your phone calls. John, make sure Sherlock doesn't blow it."

"I can't promise that," John said.

"Well, try," Tony said. "I'll call up the restaurants and make reservations."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock said, glaring down at the napkin the number was written on. He hated calling, but John had insisted.

"I didn't think you'd call."

"I'm doing this under duress."

"Someone has a gun to your head?"

"No, but I have been informed by Tony Stark that he will take us both to a restaurant tomorrow if he has to pick us up himself and handcuff us to his car to get us there."

"Your friends are rather strange."

"He's not my friend. He's a temporary neighbor."

"Still… what time is the durressed date to happen?"

"Durressed isn't a word."

"English is flexible and you know what I mean."

"8:00 pm."

"What time are you coming to get me?"

"7:30 should leave enough time to get there."

"Okay, I'll text you my address then. Good night, Sherlock."

* * *

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Since when did you become a matchmaker?"

"Since I met a thirty year old virgin tonight. This is not okay, Bruce. The universe will not allow it, and more importantly I will not allow it. We are correcting this hence forth."

Bruce smiled a bit into his tea, looking back at the paper. "Are you so keen on setting me up too?"

"I haven't found someone good enough who's available."

"Who would you count as good enough?" Bruce asked with his eyebrow raised.

"Pepper, if she weren't dating me. Or Natasha is she wasn't probably off with Hawkeye."

"Are they together?"

"Who knows, but I'm not putting anyone in a situation to get one of Clint's arrows in their ass."

Bruce smiled a little. "That's good to know." It was also good to know exactly how high Tony's standards were for him, a lot higher than what Bruce had for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: So, I updated, aren't you happy? I don't really leave projects, just kind of meander back around to them.**


End file.
